


Unraveled

by Weliany



Series: The Chronicles of One Abernathy Carter [2]
Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Blood and Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Lies and Truths, Light Angst, Loki has a crush, POV Loki (Marvel), Russo is a deep shit, Wait for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weliany/pseuds/Weliany
Summary: “Hands up in the air, pretty boy !” shouts a voice from behind him.Loki grins for he knows to whom the voice belongs to. A voice he has hoped to hear as soon he started this new quest of his. Loki abides, slowly raising his hands just above his head. “Ms Walker, I was wondering when I’ll get the pleasure of seing you again.” He slowly turns to face the woman who is having him at point-blank range. “How long since we last met?”For the past two years, Loki and Ms Walker - a sassy hit-woman sent after him by a New-Yorker mafia boss - have danced around each other, weapons in hands and fire on their tongue. As they meet yet again, Loki expects business to go as usual. He is already enjoying their reunion, when a third-party comes in and ruin the fun for them.As they are to face this unexpected enemy, many truths are to be unveiled, and some with greater consequences than others.
Relationships: Loki/Original Female Character
Series: The Chronicles of One Abernathy Carter [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811533
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

“Hands up in the air, pretty boy !” shouts a voice from behind him.

Loki grins for he knows to whom the voice belongs to. A voice he has hoped to hear as soon he started this new quest of his. Loki abides, slowly raising his hands just above his head. “Ms Walker, I was wondering when I’ll get the pleasure of seing you again.” He slowly turns to face the woman who is having him at point-blank range. “How long since we last met?”

“Not long enough. Come on, playtime’s over.” the hit-woman says, gesturing with her gun.

“But we’re barely even started.” he pouts. 

“Come on. You know the drill.” she commands as a pair of handcuffs dangle from her hand. Once again, Loki complies. He offers her a wide grin to which she replies with a scoff.

“Aren’t you tired of it all ?” he asks putting the cuffs around his slim pearly white wrists. “The running and the chasing?” 

“If you could only be a good lil’ prisoner and stay where I put you.”

“Where would be the fun in that?” Loki asks leaning over the hit-woman who does not budge. 

“Come on.” She yanks at the small chain in between. “Let’s get you outta here.” Ms Walker lets Loki exit the room first for she has learned not to leave him out of her sight, not even for a fraction of second. 

As they walk down the dusty hallway, following a line of blinking lights toward the exit of the abandoned warehouse Loki glimpses at the handcuffs weighting on his wrists. The metal is surprisingly warm against his cool skin and it definitely feels different, though he cannot precisely understand how different until he tries to take them off with his powers. “I wouldn’t bother if I were you.” she says with a hint of mockery.

“My, my, Ms Walker, it appears you’ve learned since we last met.”

“Yup. Learn something new every day. Makes me sharper.” she says tapping her forehead with the tilt of her gun. Loki raises a questioning eyebrow for there is nothing sharp about midgardian fire weapons being held that close to their fragile skulls. Sometimes he wonders how in the nine realms the hit-woman manages to stay alive. Then he remembers all the times he has seen her in action, admire her even. To this very day, she is the only one of those poorly shaped creatures that crawl on Midgard that ever got to capture him without help. Even though half the time, it is on Loki's own volition. There is no telling what it can do when bored.

“Pray tell me, Ms Walker, what is the next course of action now that you have me bound and compliant, at the mercy of your own will?”

“Same as before except that this time you’ll be the sore looser.”

“Won’t you miss our little games?” he grins wickedly.

“I’m kinda tired of chasing your perfect lil’ ass to be honest. Aren’t you?”

“So you _are_ an admirer of my rear end after all.” He would have laughed at his own jest but Ms Walker elbows him in the rib, cutting his breathes.

“Oh I can’t wait to be finally rid of you.” she moans between her teeth.

“We both know you will miss me.”

“Hmm I’m pretty sure I won’t.”

Loki stops, letting her bump into him and promptly reading her gun rightfully thinking that he is trying anything shady. He glances at her frame in the corner of his foreboding eyes. Loki has no doubt that he would have the upper hand even deprived of his magic, however he enjoys these encounters way too much to shorten them up in any way that is unnecessary. Every time Ms Walker finds him, Loki gets a chill down his spine. Especially when he gets to hear her say his name in that commanding voice of hers. He likes when she gets bossy, and shoves him around but, what he likes more is the raging fire he senses within her. And he takes it upon himself to make sure it is always ablaze.

“What are you doing ? Come on. I got places to be.” she orders in husky voice, pushing the gun against his side. Loki begins to nonchalantly move forward.

“What have you been up to these days?” Loki asks not without a genuine interest he hides behind a dark grin. The hit-woman grumbles with her foul mouth to which he answers, “Humor me.” Having to do with an annoyed sigh followed by a heavy silence, Loki decides to brief the woman about his latest mischief. “It reminded me of our time in Portland. ” he concludes, “ Do you recall our time there, Ms Walker?”

“You and I remember Portland very differently.” 

“Hm, perhaps.” he allows. “I guess we’ll always have Portland.”

Ms Walker grunts dramatically loud, urging him to shut up or else. Usually, she makes good on her threats, which is something Loki is particularly fond of. But as he is about to give her some snarky remark, a weird detail, in the form of moving shadows at the far end of the hallway, catches his attention. “I thought you worked alone.” he whispers, glancing at her, then back to the end of the corridor, slowly coming to a stop.

“I do. Why d’you…” she pauses, finally seeing what Loki has seen first. A handful of men dressed in black and carrying heavy weaponry are moving in one single motion, closing in on the hit-woman and her bounty.

“Ms Walker!” calls one of the men stepping forward. The man who naturally stands out from the group, taking the lead, carefully switches hand and raises his weapon in the air, nodding at the others to keep theirs down. “I’m here to retrieve the target.” he says in a commanding yet non threatening voice.

“And who are you exactly?” she yells appearing from Loki’s back.

“Russo, Ma’am.”

“And who sends you, _Russo_?” Ms Walker asks, shifting on her legs. From her tight shut jaw to her square shoulders, the women is nothing but pure tension. She keeps her weapon down against her leg, her arm slightly bent and her finger brushing the trigger. Loki has no doubt she will fire if need be, as he has no doubt she will managed to put at least three of them down before they can blink or breathe. However, Ms Walker and him are still outnumbered and that is a fact Loki is not particularly fond of. 

“Release me.” he whispers, nearly begging her. She dismisses him with one cold look thrown his way, too preoccupied by the group of casually menacing armed men.  
The man named Russo smiled. He is a pretty specimen, with fair features, piercing brown eyes that match his well‑groomed dark hair. However, there is something twisted about the way he smiles. Something Ms Walker has noticed as well. “Do you know who sends _me_?” she asks him, almost with provocation. 

“I do, Ma'am.” he admits, spreading his arms wide and still wearing that off‑putting smile. “But we are one big happy family, aren’t we?”

“Fuck.” she mutters. “Get behind me.” she orders Loki.

“I’m guessing they’re not with you.” 

“You know I don’t play well with others.”

“You and me both darling.” Loki answers. “Release me and I’ll take those big ones in the back.” But once again, she dismisses his proposal.

“You can thank your boss for me but as you can see, I managed on my own.” She patted Loki on the arm, a gesture he frowns upon

“We only want to give you a hand.” Russo assures her, slowly taking a step forward.

“Yeah, but see, the thing is that I never learned how to share. Being an only child will do that to ya.”

The men behind Russo, shift a bit. It is almost imperceptible but somehow palpable. There is tension in there. Tension increasing with each second spent watching Russo flashing his pretty smile across the hallway. Loki has lived many years, and many more lives not to be wary of such a man. He does not need to have a chat with him to know what kind of atrocities he is capable of. All he has to do is take a long look at him. Loki does not need his magic, nor his wit. He has solid experience he can solely rely on. 

“You should go.” Loki advices Ms Walker. “It’s me they want.”

“Uh–uh, no way. I’m keeping you with me.”

“Your life is not worth the price over my head.” he quietly argues, holding her glare even though he doubts there is a point in fighting her. After all, she has been nothing less than relentless for the past two years he has known her so why should she give up now?

“Ma’am, if you don’t want to come with us, that’s fine.” Russo assures her. “But the Count can be a very generous man and he'll do with someone like you.” As he says this, Russo’s hand slide on his rifle and soon the fire weapon is steadily held against his chest.

“Well, I already have a boss to please.” Ms Walker says with a shrug that allows her to take her own weapon in her hands.

“As do I.”

“What happened to the one big family, uh?”

The man grins, running his tongue over his thin lips, his eyes locked on Ms Walker.

“Final warning, Walker.” At that moment Loki wants nothing more than to slap the man’s pretty face for no one threatens his Ms Walker but him. “Hand him over, or come with us. There's no other way.”

“Oh come on, you know it ain't true.” she says. "I also can put you all down and get outta of here without breaking a sweat."

“I'd like to see you try. ” Russo’s grip on his rifle is all Loki sees and he fears how it will most likely go down.

“Get this cuffs off of me.” Loki is now begging.

“Then just go,” Ms Walker shouts to Russo, ignoring, yet again, the God of Mischief. “I’m sure we’ll all laugh about it comes next Sunday.”

“That mouth of yours will get you killed.” Loki grunts as a‑matter‑of‑factly.

Not that far from them, the armed men follow the quiet command of their leader. The sounds of their guns at the ready make Loki’s skin crawl. If he has nothing to fear from them, less can be said about his precious Ms Walker. The tension rises to a point it cuts the air in half.  
Russo’s forefinger is on the trigger, slowly pressing it, while his men are in position. Loki realizes they will shoot before she has a chance to move. As if to prove him right, a loud bang echoes in the hallway.

Despite being deprived of his magic, Loki acts fast. In one switch move, he steps forth and front Ms Walker, shielding her with his own body. At first he feels nothing, and believes the bullet has somehow missed its target, though he highly doubts it. Then, Loki’s eyes fall down and he sees only a tangle of brown hair in which he has buried his hands. Ms Walker tilts her head back, gasping for air and stares back at him with utter confusion. She has blood on her forehead, blood that should not be there. Why is it here? Loki worries. Are you all right? He want to ask her but somehow words get stuck in his throat. 

“Crap!” Ms Walker curses in a voice slightly different than her usual own. In the blink of an eye, she snakes her arm around his slim waist, ducks her head and carries him behind an old crate. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?!” She yells at him while firing at the enemy. 

Thick rivers of blood are flowing from a wound he has failed to noticed before. A few inches below his collar bone, there is a hole with an elongated iron bullet in it. Only after Loki sees it, comes the pain. He smirks through it, no matter how excruciating it is. “A simple thank you would suffice.”

“We gotta get outta here.” she shouts back at him, focused on her targets. There is a cry of pain coming from one man who just lost his kneecaps and falls to the ground. She’s good, he thinks closing his eyes for a second. “Shit.” she curses, dropping her weapon next to her foot and taking his hand in hers. Loki notices how warm her skin is. “Why are you bleeding so damn much?” Ms Walker forcefully puts Loki’s hand on his own wound. “Come on, pretty boy, stay with me. You gotta put some pressure on this, okay? Can you do this for me?” She leaves him for she has to continue firing in hope to slow down the progress of the now four – BANG – “Argh !” – no, three armed men.

“Why don’t you heal yourself?” Ms Walker’s shriek is like a slap to Loki who snaps his eyes opens.

“Can’t.” he hisses through the pain, shaking the handcuffs towards her. 

“For fuck sake. Key’s in my back pocket.” she tells him with barely a glance over her shoulder. “Watcha you waiting for? Come on !”

Loki takes a deep breathe in to get moving through the pain and plunges forward to reach the hit-woman rear end pocket. “Hold still.” he urges as he slides his hand between the tight layers of her black jeans, his palm cupping the round of her firm arse. As Ms Walker can’t hold still – shooting at someone would do that for you – the key eludes Loki’s otherwise nimble fingers.

“Don’t linger in there !”

“Spoil sport.” Loki teases as he finally touches the key that will free him from the magic disabler handcuffs. With a little reluctance, Loki withdraws his hands from her pocket, leaving the warm and perfect round shaped arse of Ms Walker.

The armed men creep closer despite the relentless efforts of the hit-woman to stop them. Loki struggles to get rid of the handcuffs but when he finally does, it is not without a sigh of joy and relief that he waves his hands in the air.  
Freedom is within reach. All he has to do now is get out of here and all of this – the unbearable ache and thought of having, just for a second, thought his Ms Walker was lost on him – would be just a dream, some unpleasant memories shoved to the back of his mind. “Get down !” Loki hears himself cry as a bullet comes flying towards Ms Walker's head. Without thinking, Loki grabs her by the lower part of her leather jacket and pulls her to the ground. “Shall we leave now?” His breathing is more of a whizz. The hit-woman nods her head in agreement: “Yeah.” 

“Hold tight.” Loki orders holding her tightly against his chest. He does his best to ignore the pain, to focus all of his effort on the task at hands and not on the question that burns through his mind. Why does it still hurt? Loki’s Fingers locked around his favorite torment, the god shuts his eyes and prays his mother to guide him. 

“You got nowhere else to go now!” Russo shouts moving towards them. “Better surrender.”

“I would never...” But Ms Walker’s answers is cut as she and Loki vanish into thin air, leaving Russo and his men taken aback.

Loki and Ms Walker crash against a wall, the blow taking their breath away. He has managed to take them both out of the hallway but not as far as he had hoped to. They are still inside the warehouse, still too close to those who are after them. 

“What just happened?” Ms Walker asks, pushing her hair out of her face. She turns around and takes a look at the room. It is a dirty and dark place with five rotten pillars and two desk chairs scattered between dead leaves. “How long have you been able to do this?” she says getting on her feet.

“Fairly recently.” Loki answers, his hand pressing on his wound. He fails to mention that teleportation is not yet his forte. It is a skill he is far from mastering yet and is ashamed to have shown such a failure to her. Even more so that it is the first time he tries to teleport with any one else. I could have got us killed, he reflects. Or worse. Stuck in that wall. 

“I can see their car outside. We should make a go for it before they realize we’re still around. D’you think you can,” she makes a clicking sound with her tongue pointing at the outside, “I wonder if they left anything worthy in there.”

“Why ? Do you plan on taking them all like you said you would?”

Ms Walker shrugs, still looking through the dusted glass. “Always liked that Pokémon game you know. Where you gotta catch them all, those freaking cute monster, except this…is the grown‑up, rated R version of it.” she rambles.

Loki’s chuckle is interrupted by a sharp pain coming from the bullet still lodged in his body. Loki grinds his teeth. It shouldn’t hurt as much. Yet it does and that puzzles him immensely. With his back against the wall, Loki tries to stand up but gives up almost immediately. 

“Ok, time to go.” Ms Walker declares. But as she turns around and she sees the pathetic shape of one Loki lying on the floor, she freezes for about a second. “What the… Why haven’t you healed yourself ? The cuffs are gone.” she reproaches. “You should be healed by now, no?”

“Ms Walker, if I didn’t know you better I’d think you’re worrying over me.”

“If you have enough energy to be a _dick_ , you have enough to get yourself together.”

“Just…just give me a minute. Ah !” he cries as he tries to move but the bullets begins to burn his flesh.

“Bloody hell !” she curses with that same different voice she has used earlier. But as she speaks again, her voice steadies and finds her usual intonations.

“I’m afraid I’m all out of juice.” Loki apologizes in an agonizing rumble. “The bullet’s not…normal. I… Ouch ! What are you _doing_?” he gnarls as Ms Walker’s fingers dive inches deep in his wound.

“If I get the bullet out, you get your magic back, yeah ? So I’m getting it out.”

“S…st…stop ! Ow ! D’you mean to kill me?”

“I can’t get it out.” she grunts in resignation. “OK. New plan. I go through that window, make a run for the car outside, grab whatever is in there, come back to headshot those fuckers down and get you out. Or…I just go head first.” she thinks out loud, eyes lost in the contemplation of an up and coming massacre.

“You’ll only get yourself killed.”

“Now who’s worry about who?” she mocks, glancing at him.

“Why, I just took a bullet for you.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that? What were you _thinking_?” Ms Walker slaps his shoulder forgetting for an instant this is where Loki got shot. “Shit. Sorry.” She apologizes leaning over him. He stares at her putting her long brown wavy hair behind her ear so she can have a better look at his pitiful state. The light in her eyes changes as she realizes he is in worse shape than she has initially thought. She bites her lips and tries to contain a sigh while she studies the damage done. Moved by a will of its own, Loki’s hand reaches for Ms Walker’s face.

“Go.” he tells her, searching her eyes. “It’s me they want.”

“I’m not leaving you behind.” she replies holding his gaze for a moment before jerking herself away from him. She paces in the room, looking for anything to use, for any safe way out. “For the past two years you’ve been on my main list…”

“Careful Ms Walker, one would think you’re obsessed with me.”

“I worked too hard to leave you to those bastards. I intend to rip what I sow.” she claims in all seriousness. “And I’m not obsessed with you.”

“Aren’t you though? After all, you are quite unable to leave me be. Tell me, darling, have you ever dreamed of me? Do I haunt your nights and feeds your daydreams?” he teases with a smirk in order to forget the gruesome pain emanating from the wound that will not heal no matter his efforts.

“Man, you got issues. This god complex of yours ? Not healthy.”

Loki chuckles. “Well, obsessions rarely are healthy.”

“Oh so you admit that _you_ are the one obsessed. With me.” she brags with a beaming smile which makes Loki dreadfully aware of the fact that he just has let some well hidden truth out in the open. Unfortunately for him, Loki is indeed, and beyond any reason, attracted to her in a way that is more than just a wicked game he plays to pass the time. 

“No less than you are.” he smirks.

Loki expects her to come back at him with hurtful pride and a good measure of snide. Instead, Ms Walker is still and quiet. “They’re coming.” she whispers in alarm. “If you’re playing some sick games of yours I suggest that you end it now.”

“I am not.” he answers, scornfully.

The hit-woman takes a look at him then a look at the door and sighs. “Bloody hell.” From within her jacket she pulls out a phone. She does not look happy with the call she is about to make and she is even less so when the person she is calling answers her. “It’s me.” Ms Walker reluctantly admits. “(…) I know it’s been a while (…) Yes, well, time to cash in my favor. The tracker’s on so you’ll have no trouble finding me (…) The sooner the better, like maybe five minutes ago (…) Oh and I’m not alone. (…) Three. (…) Yes. (…) Me ? No, but Loki is.” At this, she glances at him with a sorrowful look on her face. “No he’s mine and that’s none negotiable. (…) Fine. I’ll owe you then. Just hurry, okay?” She hangs up looking worse than before she has made the call. 

Ms walker drags her feet across the room and sits idly by Loki. “You sure you can’t zap us out of here.”

“Wish that I could.”

“Hm.”

“You’ve called for back up.”

“Yeah.” she admits, frowning. “Cavalry is on its way as we speak. What?” she asks as she catches him smiling.

“I thought you worked alone.”

“Wh...I do! I swear I do.” she chuckles and looks away, a smirk still on her face as she speaks. “Think of it as an emergency number.”

“Oh I’m not judging. I, myself, have teamed up with others in the past.” A chill runs down his spine and for the first time in forever, Loki is cold.

“What, with your brother?” she asks suddenly staring in Loki’s eyes. As often, he is shaken by her gaze. Ms Walker makes a tsk sound with her tongue. “He’s family, that doesn’t count.”

“Clearly you haven’t work with him. Trust me when I say that he’s a handful.”

“And you’re not?” she says gently shoving him with her shoulder, lingering against his side for perhaps a second too long. “You look awful.”she bluntly says.

“And you are lovely as ever. A great and terrible beauty.” he pauses, worn by exhaustion. Loki’s eyelid are too heavy to remain open, so he closes his eyes only to feel her hand on his clammy forehead. She leans over him, her face merely inches from his. He can taste her breath on his tongue. “Sweet and deadly.” he shakily whispers.

“Fever makes you talk funny.”

“Makes...me...painfully true.” Loki mumbles through haze of fog as he dozes off. But when the door of the empty room explodes, the haze fades aways. Ms Walker is already on her feet, pointing her gun at the two armed men coming in. Then, enters Russo.

“You again.” Ms Walker grunts standing up. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” he shouts glancing at her before he sets his predatory eyes on Loki.

“What? You think am scared of you? Three boys playing soldiers, thinking they’re all that? I eat men like you for breakfast.”

“I’m a tough one to swallow.” Russo says.

“Gross.” Ms Walker lifts her weapon in the air and pulls the trigger. But instead of the perfect shot she should have made, the gun clicked and a disappointing silence follows. Russo is standing right in front of her with a perverse grin stretching his mouth. He and Ms walker stare in each other’s eyes, making Loki ill to his stomach.

“I could kill you right now.” Russo states.

“What’s stopping you?” She hisses through her teeth.

Why does provocation always have to be her default mode, wonders Loki with irritation. Usually Loki would enjoy her being snarky and aggravating but now, as he is plagued to the ground without magic or any way to do his part, and she is facing a mortal enemy, Loki wishes for her to stop. 

Ms Walker is holding gaze with Russo, challenging him to make the first move. Loki can not do anything except watch. If Russo were to pull out the knife he has attached on his belt, he will certainly plunge the blade inside Ms Walker’s stomach that will be the end of her. Loki’s survival instincts seem to have mutated and are now solely acting to protect Ms Walker who has a habit of putting herself in harms way. With him, she has scarce to be afraid of. He will never harm her, not truly, not permanently. But Russo? That is a man who has no regards for life. There is not an ounce of goodness within hm, of that Loki is sure. He is certain that Ms Walker is facing what a true monster can be. And if there is any one in the universe that know what a monster is; it is him, Loki of Asgard, true son of Laufey and rightful heir of Jötuheim.

The aching god unfolds himself. Even the slightest movement comes with suffering, but he keeps on going, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. “Look who decided to join the party.” laughs Russo, leaving his spot in front of Ms Walker. 

However, the woman is not about to let him go anywhere and grabs his wrist. With a quick blow Russo smacks her on the cheekbone and reaches for his knife. But Ms Walker reacts fast and slaps his hand while she kicks him in the groin, taking Russo’s knife. Throw it, run, Loki wants to scream but finds himself unable to utter a single word. Instead of doing what he has hoped she will do, Ms Walker secures her grip around the handle and lunches herself towards Russo. 

It could have been a fair fight, for the hit-woman fights back and manages to dodge her opponent strikes. However, Russo’s men interfere and now it is a three against one fight, one that even the skillful Ms Walker can not overcome. 

Loki drags his feet across the room, one arm dangling to his side. When he sees one of the desk chair not that far from him. With all the strength he has left in him, Loki takes the wheeling chair and sends it in the air to crash against Russo’s back. The man is winded for a second which is enough for him to redirect his attention and extract himself from the grouped attack. “Get rid of her.” Russo orders his men, walking nonchalantly toward Loki. “You don’t look well, my friend.”

“I am not your friend.” Loki grunts, bent and out of breathe.

“No? Shame.” Russo shrugs, tripping Loki up. Once Loki is lying flat on his stomach, Russo approaches him, then puts his military black boot between his shoulder blades, pining him to the ground. “How you like it, uh ? This bullet has been made just for you. You should be flattered.” Russo sneers, looking down at Loki.

“I’m going to rip you limb from limb,” Loki grunts, “And leave nothing but that sour tongue of yours for the dogs to eat.”

A gunshot swallows Russo’s come back. “My good foot !” Ms Walker screams in outrage, punching the soldier who fired the shot, in the face and breaking his nose. “I still had my nine toes on it !”

Loki tries to rise up, but Russo slams his boots across his spine, forcing him to lay on the floor. “You know, if she’d just accepted my offer, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Russo makes sure to apply just enough pressure on Loki’s spine to keep him still and almost out of breath. Another gunshot echoes in the room, and all is quiet, all is still. Loki grins, for Ms Walker has sent yet another soldier to Hel. “I told you to get rid of her!” Russo his loosing his nerve, stumping on Loki. 

The god breathes hard against the floor, inhaling more dust than air. The man throws yet another gun to his soldier who has lost it, giving Ms Walker a fair chance to get a hold of it. It is a battle of limbs and blood as they rush toward the gun. Russo bursts into a laugh. “Oh man!” He chuckles, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. “She’s feisty I’ll give you that.” 

Through a curtain of dirty long raven hair, Loki perceives Russo’s sadistic grin. The man is staring at Ms Walker fighting for her life, and perhaps for Loki’s as well. Russo is staring at Ms Walker, the tip of his tongue between his thin lips while his eyes are glued on her as she fights back and falls on the ground. Loki feels the man’s depravity sink under his skin and to his bones. “I’ll enjoy killing her.” Russo says biting the side of his thumbnail.

“I will end you first.” Loki promises.

“Sure thing honey. But first you have to stand UP!” he yells the last word kicking Loki on the back of his neck. The god’s tongue bleeds in his mouth and he feels a couple of teeth loose. His chin is scratched and there is not an inch of him that is not utter agony. If I hadn’t that bullet, you’ll be nothing but ashes, Loki thinks glaring at Russo.

A loud grunt gets Loki to watch ahead. The soldier is squeezing the hit-woman’s against his chest. She is gasping for air, waving her hands like a fish out of water. The man broader and built in concrete, tightens his arms around her. Ms Walker’s face begins to turn blue and purple, her mouth and eyes wide open. In one desperate act, she throws her head back and deals a powerful head‑butt. Confused and off‑balance, the man lets go of his prey. It is a mess of limbs and legs, making it hard to tell who has got the upper hand. They struggle on the floor, spitting blood and grunting with each breathe and blow.

“What are you waiting for?” Russo yells, his hands circling his mouth. “Finish her.” Underneath his boot, Loki wriggle. “What? Can’t see the show?” Russo kneels, grabbing a handful of Loki’s hair and lifting his bloody face up. He patted him on the cheek, sending spikes of pain. “There. Better?” Russo chortles in Loki’s ear.  
Unless Loki shuts his eyes, he has no other option but to be a helpless witness to the fight happening in front of him. Everything goes by both very quickly and dreadfully slow, until the sound of one bullet sent out in blaze and clamor, stops it all, and Ms Walker’s fall.

Silence roars. Loki is flat on his stomach, panting, with fat warm tears blurry his otherwise perfect vision. He’s gasping for air, desperate to see rise like the phoenix he needs her to be.  
“Rise soldier.” commands Russo to the man who has fallen shortly after Ms Walker. He yanks at Loki’s hair. Arms and legs entangled with the hit-woman’s, the soldier is as still as a statue. 

Loki is trembling, shaking from head to toe and at first, the commander thinks it is because of fear taking its toll on the Asgardian god. However, as his dark eyes fall on his target, fear appears running down his spine and not Loki’s. A grin twists Loki's mouth in a dreadful grimace and what he has mistaken for fear, is instead, an uncontrollable laughter. “What’s so funny, uh?” Russo spits in Loki’s face, yelling. His cold demeanor has crumbled, and the commander is now boiling with rage for Loki’s laugh is the one insolent act he can not bare.

“Oh you’re so pathetic.” Loki chuckles with a sadistic smile.

“You’re the one on the ground with a mystical bullet makin' you weak as a baby. From where I stand, _you’re_ the pathetic one.”

“Want to bet?” Loki grins, then suddenly rolls to the side. In a swift move, he cuts the man’s Achilles tendon. Russo falls wailing. Loki crawls on top of him, a bloody knife in hand and death in heart. “I won’t die before you do.” Loki smiles against Russo’s ear, pressing his chest against his as hard as he can. Despite the many loses forced upon him, there is one thing holding Loki together; his will. Unyielding, unbreakable. He has done great many things only because he has put his mind to it. He has gotten over his failures because of it too, and it is not about to break any time soon. Not if he has his say in this matter.

So Loki runs the blade over the man’s legs. The blade kisses the flesh through the thick fabric of Russo’s pants, cutting nerves and damaging muscle. “This will take a while.” Loki growls. Once he is done with one leg, making sure Russo would not be able to move, Loki slides his fingers on either side of Russo’s square jaw and presses until he hears a crack. 

However, the man is a fighter, a strong and dedicated one. He is a dead man walking that has walked more with death than life, born to kill until he draws his last breathe. “You’re feisty, I’ll give you that.” Loki grins, his nose rubbing Russo’s. “I’ll enjoy killing you.” Loki exhales, trembling. His thumb draws a line under Russo’s chin, pressing here and there to make him suffocate. The man shivers, and smacks Loki on his temple. The blow is less violent than it could have been. However, considering the general state of Loki, it is enough to make him dizzy. Loki blinks through blood and sweat, finding his teeth around Russo’s fingers. The man’s cry is music to Loki’s ears. With a satisfied grin, Loki cuts Russo’s middle finger in half. He spits the tip, licking the blood off his lips. 

Russo’s eyes widen, filled with a fear he has rarely experienced in his life. A fear that feeds the primal needs of the broken god. The man struggles, grunts and tries to push Loki out of his chest. Nevertheless, Loki is a resilient, nothing to lose, kind of god. He has decided that if he were to die here and there, it will be on his own accord. Taking the life of the one who has doomed Ms Walker is an added bonus. Unknowingly, Loki’s eyes glance at her body, lying on the floor. His heart pumps in his chest, blood boiling in his veins. Because of the bullet he is unable to chose his Jötun form, otherwise, he would have frozen some bits of Russo’s only to smash them, extracting some wails of pain from him. But he has to make with what is left of him.

Loki forcefully grabs a handful of Russo’s dark hair and yanks at it, exposing his delicate throat. “Hm.” The tip of his blade follows the thick veins pumping underneath the soft, fragile skin.

“I’ll...” Begins Russo. Loki shushes him, one finger pressed against his lips. He is in no mood to hear pleas nor threats. He wants him to die, dreadfully slow and to watch the show for he has nothing left to do now. With a shaky hand, Loki makes the blade brush Russo’s throat. A slim red line appears from which blood spurs showers of droplets. He will die a little bit more with each breath, laugh or cry. Loki has made sure of that.

The crippled god rises from the ground, dragging himself towards the pile of dead bodies. His knees give up a few feet from his destination but, it doesn’t matter for he is close enough to grab the woman’s wrist and pull her out of the mess.

Ms Walker’s eyes are shut. Her face, without her trademark frown and sarcastic grin, seems wrong. All is still. This isn’t her, Loki thinks as he gently lays her head on his lap, combing her hair with his bloody fingers. He wants to apologize for putting blood in her otherwise luscious brown mane, for how it all turned out. Loki takes in the silence and the weight of her head now resting on his legs. “I am sorry.” Is all he can say without breaking into a cry.

On the other side of the room, the man responsible for the whole debacle, is ploddingly breathing to his painful death. “I ought to keep you alive.” Loki shouts across the room, having second thoughts about letting the man die. Dying is easy.

“You wouldn’t know how.” Ms Walker chuckles, shifting her head on Loki’s lap. At last, he thinks, bent over Ms Walker’s body, numb all over. Loki has played with dead too many time during his life. However he has never suffered as he does today, holding her against him. Never has he had any hallucination so vivid that it made him question the very fabric of reality.

“I’m talking about him.” Loki replies pointing with his chin toward the dying man. There is no harm in indulging a little hallucination. After all, he is on the brink of death himself and this time it seems that it is going to last.

“Mine died quicker.” she smirks, revealing a row of bloody teeth. Loki gazes at her, lovingly caressing the lines of her jaw.

“Well, mine deserves to feel each single drop of life leaving him.”

“Always with the dramatics.”

“Isn’t it why you liked me so much?” he lightly chuckles. He feels silly talking with a fragment of his imagination for he can make Ms Walker say anything he would like to hear. However, Loki indulges himself with this last comfort so he pictures her moving her hand to his knee and lean on it to help herself rise. He is even able to make her sit next to him, blood stains spread all over her shirt. As it is only his imagination doing the work, Loki hears her sigh as she checks the hole just above her groin and whispers “Bugger. I loved that shirt.”

“Your voice’s changed.” He smiles with his eyes closed for keeping them open is too painful for a number of reasons. The hit-woman shifts next to him, her shoulder now pressed against his. It feels more real than reality itself.

“Help is on its way. Just,” she pats him on the arm, “hang in there, okay?”

“Sure. As long as you promise me…” he mumbles. The air is sharp and blazing, ripping his lungs with each breathes. His arms and legs are as numb as a rag doll’s, his head spins so fast that he might get sick.

“What ? Promise you what Loki?” Funny how he clearly hears the urgency in her voice, as if she’s scared for him to pass over.

“That you…won’t leave me.” he manages to say. There is something sliding along his arm, and fingers reaching for his. The warmth of her hand seems so real, he wants to open his eyes. He needs to for even if this is just a fragment of his imagination, Loki needs to see her one more time. But, everything is a blur. A strange shape seems to be coming toward him and his precious Ms Walker. A shape Loki does not recognize, therefore might be a possible threat. No, he thinks urgently.

“Jeez, what did you do?” A man asks. Loki wants to answer but lacks the strength to do so.

“Believe it or not, this one there is not my doing.”

“How badly are you hurt?”

“Did I die again you mean?” 

Loki perceives, in the ghost of Ms Walker’s voice, the smirk he has grown to love, and purses his lips. Even now, during this strange dream of his, he can not imagine her otherwise than what she used to be: insufferably cheeky.

“Did you?”

“Don’t think so, but it hurts like hell so...maybe?”

“You’re in it for a serious check‑up.” Says the man.

“I’m fine, really.”

“You’ll be fine when my team will say you’re fine.” The man's voice begins to sound familiar to Loki, like an echo. “I’ll deal with him.” Next to him, Loki feels the warmth of Ms Walker’s hand leave him.

“He’s mine, Coulson.” she says, assertive.

Coulson. The name is not estrange to me, Loki tries to think. This dream of his starts making less and less sense and keeping his eyes open hurts. It hurts like if gazing too long and too close into a fire. His vision is blurry but as the man leans above him, studying him with prideful laughing eyes the features of his face become clearer. Coulson.

“I…I _killed_ you…”

“You did your best, son.” answers Agent Coulson with a wry smile. “What happened to him?” he then asks to Ms Walker.

“Nefaris’ work I take it. The men you saw all worked for him. Or so it seems” With her answer, Loki’s confusion thickens. Loki sees her getting up and leaving his side as she grabs Agent Coulson’s hand. He greets the hit-woman with a nod and a smile. Loki looks at the scene wondering when those ghosts will leave him alone and why he is burden by one of an inconsequential victim he’s forgotten as soon as he had turned his back on him.

Loki’s eyes shut despite his best effort to keep them open. The illusion of Ms Walker alive and well has grown painful to watch for it can not be real. He has seen her meet her death, has he not?


	2. Chapter 2

“Wake up pretty boy.”

Loki furrows his brow as he feels the distinctive warmth of Ms Walker's hand in his. “Leave me, ghost.” He mumbles half‑asleep, though rid of physical pain.  
His magic has been brought back to him which means that he is most certainly alive. He dares not believe it, because of the ghost that is currently haunting him. So, with no real conviction, Loki folds his fingers, gently squeezing Ms Walker's hand. 

The weight of her hand in his, the hardened and scarred skin of hers under the light and cold touch of his. A finger pressed against the inner of her wrist, Loki feels the course of Ms Walker’s warm blood. Breathing hard, and keeping his eyes resolutely shut, Loki refuses the truth.  
He has to remember how to breathe when he hears her say: “You’re not dead yet. And neither am I, so I don’t know who you’re calling a ghost but that’s certainly isn’t me.” she scoffs then does something that forces him to open his eyes. She takes her hand back. Her bruised face certainly appears to him and is as real as it has ever been.

“How?” Loki asks scanning her face and desperate to lock eyes with her as she stares at the centre of his forehead, giving the illusion that she is looking at him although she is not. Her avoidance makes her seem so so far that Loki feels the urge to touch her once more, if only to make sure she is here, with him. Despite his haste, Loki carefully goes around the battered parts of her face, then burrow his fingers in her silky brown hair. Ms Walker quivers, her whole body tensed until Loki’s hand stops behind her ears. “I...I – I saw you die.” his voice breaks with genuine hurtfulness.

She gives him a feeble smile, leaning ever so lightly in his hand. “You’re not the only one with tricks up his sleeve.” she says before stepping away from him, depriving him from her warmth once more. “You should rest now, pretty boy.”

“I feel fine.” Loki protests, sitting on the bed. It is only now that Loki realizes that he has been put in some sort of midgardian medical chamber with blue screen monitors attached to him and that regularly beep or hum. “This is unnecessary.” Loki points out, raising an eyebrow. “All of this.” And with a flicker of his hand, the machines stop and silence falls in the room.

“Well, you still got to stay in here until I get clearance so...” she pauses. “I vouched for you. It’ll help if you’d stay put. For once.” She doesn’t ask nor does she order him anything. She simply gives him the truth, trusting him – or so it seems – to do the right thing.

“Your voice has changed. The inflections in it, your accent as well.” Loki says, waiting for her reaction. But there is none. “Who are you really Ms Walker?”

“Why should you care?” She says, wearing a fake smile that saddens her, otherwise, mischievous eyes.

“Oh I do.” Loki answers in all honesty. “I care a lot more than you think.”

She bits her lower lip, unbothered by the cut that splits it in half, and scoffs. A moment goes by, perhaps a second, perhaps more, during which all they do is stare at the space dividing them. “Liar.” she peacefully smiles and walks away. 

She is half across the room now and Loki jumps out of the bed. His head spins, and he has to sit down or fall on the ground. “I assure you that I’ve never told a single lie in my entire life, Ms Walker.” He says blinking until his head stops turning. She does not believe him, and why should she? Ms Walker goes on knocking at the massive iron door marked with a set of strange symbols engraved in the rusty panel.

“Is this designed to lock me in?” Loki asks pointing at the door with his chin. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but this cage was not meant for you.”

Loki’s interest is picked, his natural curiosity suddenly blazing. “And for whom might that have been made, if I may ask?”

“There are beings far greater than you, pretty boy.”

“I’ll let you know that I am a _god_. What’s greater than that?”

“A Kree.” 

And without further explanation, Ms Walker simply leaves the room. She has failed to mention when she will be back or if she will. Nevertheless, Loki waits for there is nothing else for him to do.

She comes back later on. During her absence, not a single soul visited Loki. The iron door has proven to be a powerful barrier against his powers and none of his tricks against it worked as long as it stayed shut. Within the room, however, it is another story. In there, Loki can make with it almost whatever his mind fancies. So, the enclosed subterranean chamber decor varies according to his ever changing mood.

Once, it is a quaint reading room, with a fireplace and an antique sofa placed under a window from which the warm arms of the sun bath him as he nonchalantly reads a book of Asgardian tales about women at arms. Another time, it is a green room, lush with splendid specimens of foliage plants. Some stretch to the ceiling, twisting their way up some wooden pillars, while others, spotted with bright flowers, are simply content in their pot.

When Ms Walker comes back, the chamber has become an English country house drawing room, with oil painting showing portraits of members of the Asgardian royal family framed in gold and hang on light green walls. At the centre of the room, eating most of the floor space, is a grand forest‑green carpet embroiled with discreet, yet lovely golden threads. And on that carpet are two sofas facing each other. At the far end of the room, is a window framed by two empty white tall vases. Loki is pondering about what to put in the vases but Ms Walker coming in, interrupts his thoughts. “Having fun?” she asks closing the door right behind her.

“Barely.”

The woman goes straight for one of the sofas and lazily stretches her legs in front of her, wincing. The quick grimace doesn’t elude Loki’s perceptive gaze. “Are you in pain?” he asks. He sees only the back of her neck, the handful of scars that link the bottom of her skull to her shoulders. She is a broken woman through and through, at least as broken as he may be. “Because if you are, I can certainly help you.”

“Nah ! Am peachy. They fixed me up pretty good up there.”

“And where is ‘there’ exactly?” Loki asks crossing his legs as he sits on the other sofa.

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

A wide grin pushes the corners of Loki’s lips. “I assume this is not our final destination. Unless you are working for S.H.I.E.L.D.” Loki hints. Ms Walkers laughs, jerking her head back and exposing her throat. Although her laugh ultimately dies, her smile, still remains. According to Loki it is one of the most beautiful sight to gaze upon.

“Oh god, no. I’m not about to go back to no more suits and ties. Nope. No way.”

“You intrigue me Ms Walker.” Loki leans forward ready to investigate. However, this must not have been in Ms Walker’s plan for she interrupts him as soon as he opens his mouth.

“There’s something you said earlier that stuck with me.” she says, unfolding her legs and scratching her ear. There is tension in her fingers, and even though she looking right at him, it seems that her gaze is unfocused. Loki allows her to continue with a flicker of his wrist. “You said that you’ve never told a single lie in your life.” She chuckles. “How can that be true if you're the God of Mischief?”

“ _If_?” he asks lifting his eyebrow.

“Didn’t mean to insult you, your highness.” she mocks the last word with a slight nod. “So is it true? Have you never ever told a lie in your very lengthy life? Not even a little white lie?”

“Well,” he says clapping his hands together. “It is an absurd concept, isn’t it? White lies. Whereas ‘twisted truth’ is much more correct, wouldn’t you say?”

Ms Walkers nods, taking in his argument before she answers him. “I see. You’re the kind of guy thinking that if you believe what you say, then it’s nothing but the truth. But it’s only your truth, isn’t it?”

“Are my truth and yours that much different, Ms Walker?” Loki asks, noticing a flicker in her eyes and an undefinable shift. “What is a lie but a falsehood, meant to be disguised as the truth? I do not bother with it, my dear, ever. I stick with the truth. People assume that I don’t, but I do. I speak the truth, my truth, perhaps, but truth nonetheless. Is it my fault if people are quick to think something other than what I tell them? Am I responsible for the way their mind work?”

“No. But you are a master at working your way around people’s mind. At illusions even.” she states, looking around the room. Her tongue runs over her parched lips, and Loki thinks she might be thirsty. Then, in her hand, appears a tall glass of water. Ms Walker nods at him, raising her glass before sipping the fresh water. An obvious relief soothes her features.

“I only tell them what they want to hear from me, in the manner they expect me to. Because if I were to speak their truth to them, do you think they’ll accept it?” It is a fair question for Loki to ask. Has he not perfected the idea that somehow he has been lying his way through life solely because people first had that assumptions about him? A judgement has been placed upon him as a child. Things have been said, hammered home in Loki’s mind then heart, so he had no choice but to wallow in the image that has been forged for him. Growing up, he used to hate that constant mistake that _he_ was the one who lied all the time, whereas he was fed up lies all around. However, he has learned to use this to his own advantage.

Ms Walker considers his question, searching for a place where to put the glass down. Loki doesn’t have to properly rise from the sofa to reach her. His pearly white long fingers easily brush hers as he leans to relieve her from the glass. Ms Walker freezes, and for a minute, Loki is under the impression that he has done something terribly wrong. She lets him take the glass away before she slumps in the sofa, nails grazing the soft green fabric. 

“What is it Ms Walker?” At the mention of the name, the woman shudders and Loki understands it all. The small changes he has spotted every now and then since they begun to talk were all connected to the name. “Why don’t you tell me your truth, Ms Walker?” he pauses, because this time the shift happens in a way that is no longer quick nor restrained. The more he calls her Ms Walker, the less she seems able to control what is bothering her. “What?” Loki grins with a certain pride and satisfaction, “Cat got your tongue?”

Ms Walker bites the inside of her cheek but grins at Loki’s repartee. He likes knowing he is capable of entertaining her while remaining true to himself. He takes pride in the birth of every grin, smile or smirk that enlightens the woman's face. But when her smile disappears so suddenly, his heart sinks in his chest. 

She points at the door though never taking her eyes off of him. “As soon as we leave this room, this will be the last time we see each other.”

“How so?”

“The man I work for has been notified of my – erm – success. He’s waiting for us.”

“Oh? So you’re really going to proceed with this?” Loki is a bit of surprised as he mentions it. Ms Walker has always failed to deliver him to the man asking for his head. “What has changed? Because something must have for you had me on our very first battle. You are that good, love.” he reminds her though she needs no reminding of her skills and prowess. 

Ms Walker welcomes the compliment with a light snort Loki is incapable of not finding adorable. “I know. But I guess getting my hands on you is easier that keeping you.” she says with attitude.

“Perhaps for someone else, yes. But you are, and by far, my favorite sparing partner, Ms Walker.” He glances at her when saying the name and studies how tensed her body becomes, how uneasy she seems. She looks sideways, grazing the sofa until she makes a tear in the fabric.

“I’ve lied to you.” she exhales, her shoulders still heavy.

“You wouldn’t be the first.” he dismisses he plainly sees there is something eating at her, making him desperate to know what it can be. “So if this is what's bothering you, please, stop troubling yourself with such…"

“My name’s Abby. Carter.” she interrupts him, shifting on her seat. Her voice has changed as it has in the warehouse. She is presently staring waiting for him to have some sort of reaction to her revelation. However, he is not that much surprised for it would seem unlikely for someone in her line of work to use her real name. "You know like in Peggy Carter.” she adds.

"Is she a relative of yours?" he asks to his own, and possibly eternal shame.

“OK. That’s – erm – new. Usually when it gets known that I’m a Carter, all people want to speak about is dear old cousin Peggy.”

“Is that what you want from me? Asking you about that cousin of yours? Because I will if that's your wish." he assures her. "However, judging by the look on your face it is a subject you’d much rather avoid.” Loki pauses, dwelling on the silence between them. “So you lied about your name, and, according to how your real voice sounds, I’d say you lied about being American as well. What other truth have you twisted?”

She is starting to get antsy. And it is a strange sight for him, as the hit-woman never showed an ounce of nervousness before. Not even when the tip of his blade kissed her throat. She has laughed that day. Laughed and handed him his arse as well. 

“The reason I’ve been chasing you.”

“Why, I am quite a catch so I can think of numerous reasons for you to go after me. My charms and compelling personality would be just the tip of the iceberg.” Loki takes pleasure in the sincere laugh she offers him. But it does not last long enough for him to congratulate himself in a job well done. Her laugh dies and silence bursts in the room.

“You are not just a name on a list that has been handed to me. You’re the reason I’ll get to stay alive.”

“So nothing personal then.” he casually jokes. 

“You have to believe that I wouldn’t do this if I had a choice. But I’m afraid that I am out of options.”

“You are?” 

“Unfortunately so, yes. It isn’t fair to you, and I tried to find a loophole. Why do you think I’ve let you off the hook so many times before?”

“You let me…? Oh please Ms Carter, we both know I perfectly managed on my own to get free from you.”

“Name _one_ time you did so.”

“Erm, well, there’s been Madrid.”

“I had a whole army after my own arse. It was _all_ the distractions you needed to fly away.”

“All right. New York then. You did a splendid job for our first dance but, I did escape you that one time.”

She opens her mouth to argue, then grumbles, “Fine.” She crosses her arms on her chest and starts pouting like a girl. “I’ll grant you this one. But I’ll let you know that since then I have nothing but a perfect record. Except for...Madrid. But that doesn’t count anyway.”

Loki leans over, elbows on his knees. Abby glances away, her eyes jumping from one furniture to a piece of decor. To get rid of any distractions, Loki makes the room change. All goes away and nothing remains but Loki and Abby standing in the middle of an empty white room. 

“So. You didn’t want to trade my life for yours.” he states, stepping towards her. “Despite my record.” 

She stares at him, voiceless. 

“You are aware of my previous deeds, yes?” Loki purrs taking another step forth. 

"I'm not the one to judge what you did. I too have a pretty dirty slate."

He would love to close the distance between them and reach for her twitching scarred hands, but somehow he feels that it would not be wise. “Let me help you.” he says. Abby snorts, almost gasping for air and her lips curl into that adorable smile he is fond of, which makes the distance he has established all the more difficult to maintain. “I am serious, Ms Carter. There is nothing I can’t do if I put my mind to it. Ask anyone.” Loki grins wickedly.

“Oh I know you’re quite the devil. But you have _no_ idea who I’m working for.”

“I don't need to know their name to know that I'll expunge any last of those who's crossed you.”

Ms Carter opens her mouth, running a hand in her hair, unable to find words. She finally gives up answering on that last statement him as she starts pacing the room. “Look, pretty boy, I don’t like it but you’re my get away from jail card. As soon as I’ve handed you over, I’ll be cured for good and I'll be free to go my own way.”

“Cured? What kind of illness are you suffering from?” Loki asks in genuine concern. Blinded by it, he strides toward her, taking her hands in his, his thumbs creating invisible circle on Ms Carter battered flesh. A crease appears between Ms Carter’s brows and Loki immediately regret his foolish action. “I am a healer. My mother taught me the ways of…”

“It’s...No, please. I...” She struggles to find the right words, grunting at herself. “I’ve made a deal, okay? And it _is_ nice of you to offer, which is weird enough, but…”

“But what Ms Carter? What reason could you possibly have of turning my help down? Whatever the burden, I offer to lift it from your shoulders.” he says struggling not to touch said shoulders.

“Look, I’m not some damsel in distress all right? I don’t need rescuing. I’ve made my bed and I have to lie in it.” she says firmly, stepping away.

“You are a proud woman, love.” Loki says with a glimmer in his eyes. He sees parts of himself in her. Some lodge in the darkest parts of his heart, and he wonders if it is the reason of his infatuation. “However, you are putting words I’ve never even fathom in my mouth. Never have I ever mistaken you for a helpless creature. I am merely offering you my assistance and the reason to that is simple my dear. By helping _you_ , I am helping myself. By getting rid of the sword above your head, we erase the target on my back.”

“You want us to work together?” she asks dumbfound.

“Why, yes. We’d make terrific partners, no doubt.”

“Thanks, but I work alone remember.”

“And look where it has get you.” Loki says spreading his arms. “We have accidentally teamed up once and I thought it went splendidly.” 

“Oh you mean when I had to kill the Baron for you in Madrid?” 

“Details.” he dismisses with an elegant hand gesture.

“To you maybe!” Loki is sure it the last she will hear of it, but as usual, Ms Carter manages to surprise him. “Let’s say I am incline to hear your proposal, what do you have stored in your twisted mind?” 

“I will suggest we stick to the classics. You will be the glorious hunter that comes home, victorious, with her wanted prey, and as soon as you receive your reward I burn the place to the ground.”

“Right. Classics. You and I have very different definitions of it.” She may not be very fond of the plan, she does not reject it either and Loki sees hope. She starts pacing around the room, one hand on her chin, and one her curvy hip. She murmurs to herself for a solid minute after which Loki is growing restless.

“Well?” he asks showing traces of impatience. “What say you?”

“I like it. I’m all for setting the world on fire and such.” At that Loki can’t help his grin to spread from one corner of his mouth to the other. “But all godlike you may be, you are not enough to take them down. They are expecting you for a while now. Their security is off the roof and I know only like 12 % of it. And there’s still the matter of my...Hum. Well, my reward won’t come easy and I can’t guarantee they won’t do with you what they want before I can get my hands on it.”

Suddenly Ms Carter, turns to him, mischief writing all over her face. Loki bites his tongue, repressing the urge to go to her and ravage her lips with his own. Many times before has she ablaze a fire within him and all it took was but a look or smirk sent in his direction. “I may have an idea but that mean I’ll have to save your arse.”

“There is no one I’d trust more.” Loki says finding himself right in front of her, one hand hovering her arm. He stops himself before he can actually touch her. Yet, he feels her skin crawl under the ghost of his brush and as she slowly backs away, her eyes set on him, Loki regrets his latest boldness. 

“It won’t be pretty.”

Loki shivers in delight, picturing him and her on top of a mount of corpses. Those who have wronged her, have consequently, wronged him too and he would like nothing more but to oblige her thirst of vengeance. Ms Carter sighs, letting her arms fall to the sides of her. “If we fail, we’re both dead.”

“I’ve died before.” he says as mean of reassurance.

“As have I.” 

Loki’s eyes narrow. He is inclined to drown her with questions for he can not picture himself using his magic on her without her consent. However, the look on her face shatters him to his very core. “We will prevail.” he promises with a shaky breath, focusing on his shoes. He senses the woman slightly turn more than he actually sees it. With one deep breath, Loki straightens his spine and lifts his chin up. 

In the blink of an eye, Loki finds himself towering Ms Carter. He does not remember walking to her, but all matters is the fact that she does not back away from him. If anything, she remains steadfast, holding his gaze. Loki’s fingers brush the palm of her hand, gliding ever so gently toward her wrist until he decides to lift her hands up. She has healed from her many wounds, though she bares the marks of many fights, some that must have cost her a great deal of pain. Loki runs his thumbs over a few of these marks, desperate to lay a gentle kiss on each one. However, he finds himself simply content to be allowed close to her. Whatever she deems himself worthy of, he will gladly accept.

When she slowly closes the distance between them, Loki’s heart flutters. When she stretches her neck, and her lips brush the sideline of his jaw, his heart simply ceases to beat for a moment. “Thank you.” she whispers with her lips only an inch from his. As she breathes against him, Loki is tempted to turn and meet with her mouth. He dares not dream of how their kiss would taste like  
.  
Through his dark eyelashes, Loki glimpses at her face, still relatively close to his as she is slowly backing away, almost with reluctance. She breaks away from him, leaving a cold bare space between them as she walks to the heavy iron door.

Once in front of it they stare at the panel. Ms Carter is about to knock on it while Loki’s eyes go from her face to her hand curled into a tight fist. She bangs on the door and they wait, shoulders pressed together, the back of their hands casually brushing against one another. They hear a key wrestling in the keyhole and a few latches being opened with force. The handle shakes a bit before the door finally opens.

Both Loki’s and Ms Carter’s break the faint contact as the guard appears on the threshold. “Cuffs?” asks a hollow voice from behind the covering helmet, pointing at Loki’s free wrists. Ms Carter’s eyebrow goes up, shape like he top of a pyramid.

“Do I look like the type who needs to handcuff prisoners?” she boldly and coldly asks the guard who stutters from within the helmet.

“Don’t answer that.” Coulson walks down the corridor with a rapid pace. “It’s a trap you’ll never get out of.” He turns to Ms Carter, glancing quickly at Loki. His apparent freedom uneases him but the agent does his best to conceal it behind a light smirk. “Leaving us so soon?”

“Well, this one is fixed and you did your best with me so…”

Coulson means to lean towards Ms Carter, and Loki makes a slight move as if to be between the man and the hit-woman. By all the side glances he receives, Loki realizes he has, once again, overstepped some boundaries, and slides back, next to Ms Carter and not an inch further. 

“I can have a team working 24/7 on your…you know.” he hushes with a knowing look, unwilling for Loki’s ears to be prying on their conversation.

“I already owe you a favour, I’m not about to owe two.”

“Not for this you wouldn’t.” Coulson assures her. Ms Carter’s gaze fall to the ground only to go up on Loki’s face. 

“I’ll be fine. Thanks though.”

Coulson politely nods and moves aside, walking on Ms Carter’s left side, his eyes glancing sternly at Loki who remains impassible at her right side. “Do you have everything you need?” Coulson asks her.

“I do.” she answers glimpsing to Loki and his heart skips a beat despite his remaining calculated coldness.

Agent Coulson leads them trough the tunnels that run through the underground complex, and opens one last door for them. The sun is shining so bright it blinds them for a while. “Until next time?” Ms Carter says.

“Until next time.” Agent Coulson agrees. He studies that strange duo, an ageless hit-woman and a god from another land, both deadly and unpredictable, then nods. “I’ve arranged a ride for you. It’s…on the house.”

Ms Carter nods. She is too proud to say otherwise but she is thankful for him. They part ways without warmth nor sentiment. “He is fond of you.” Loki says once left alone.  
“Only because I’m good pal with his idol.” Ms Carter answers hoping in the vehicle. She casually presses the START button, closing her eyes to appreciate the sound of the engine. “He think that’ll keep him in Steve’s good graces. But Steve only has good graces so…”

Loki gives her confused look with an arched eyebrow. “Steve? What kind of idol do you Midgardians worship that is named Steve? It is such a preposterous name.”

“Well, he’s more known as Captain America but I’ll make sure to share with him your views on his name next time I see him.”

Loki hides how much at a loss he is to learn her connection with his former enemy. Is their anyone he has teamed up with that has not befriended the dripping with patriotism shield barer? It is one more item Loki puts on his list and when all is settled he would like very much to have a thorough discussion with Ms Carter.

She is driving with one arm bent on the car door, bitting her nails, eyes fixed on the horizon. He can hear the gears in her mind working endlessly. They have left without hatching a plan, and certainly without any spared thoughts about the possibility of calling for back-up. He and Ms Carter are rushing towards the unknown, and the only certainty Loki has is that he would never trade this situation for anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! 
> 
> For today at least.
> 
> If you liked that story (good for you!) know that there is more coming your way because I made the mistake of falling in love with Abernathy while writing We Need to Talk About Peggy (and Bucky) which takes place before Unraveled but the two are not necessarily linked. Although, if you want to check it out, be my guest. 
> 
> Anyhoo, after a while, I realized that Abby and our most beloved God of Mischief would make a terrific team and…That was it. The end of me, for now I am knees deep in a multiple-fic saga and this one is just the middle of it. Yes, you read correctly…I begun with the MIDDLE because there is nothing sacred anymore !
> 
> -W


End file.
